


Of Half Empty Glasses and Half Fullfilled Dreams

by wisteria_prince



Category: Hajime no Ippo | Fighting Spirit
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Romance, also a few intentional bad puns here and there, and mashiba doesn’t know how not to be a jerk sometimes, hni manga spoilers, obligatory mentions of kumi, occasional angst bc itagaki is a drama queen, tags get added as we go folks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23455759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisteria_prince/pseuds/wisteria_prince
Summary: “Why are you so rude to me Ryo?” Itagaki asked, angling the knife to make sure he missed his fingertips as he held the lotus root in place. “Because you’re annoying,” Mashiba said, peeved at the idea of Itagaki likely using his recent prize money for something so unnecessary. “Oh please, says the man that hasn’t kicked me out of his apartment just yet.” Said man crumbled the receipt and tossed it into a nearby waste bin.“There must be something about me you like.”Mashiba stood there in quiet contemplation.“...You’re not wrong..”------Collection of stories about the unlikely pair of a certain grim reaper and a flashy boxing genius
Relationships: Mashiba Ryou/Itagaki Manabu
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Of Dinner Tables and Charisma

**Author's Note:**

> i talked about these two being together as a joke with some discord friends after we read that one chapter where they sparred. Then one of them legitimately sold their potential dynamic to me and that's how this got written. Light spoilers for the early 1000s of the manga for this first chapter.

Outside of boxing, few things satisfied Mashiba like the feeling of coming home after a long day of work. This recent trucking company seemed to like him, and the pay is decent enough but inventory is still grueling in its own way. Albeit, somedays the painful part had nothing to do with long drives and more to do with talking to coworkers but what always kept Mashiba going was the promise of being released to unwind in the comfort of home. The thought of a hot shower, a cold beer, and good food on the table floated through his mind as he trudged up the stairs of his apartment, sifting around the pockets in his boiler suit for his keys. 

Upon opening the door, the smell of eggplant, tumeric and other spices hit his nose, bringing a rare smile to his face as he removed his shoes at the entryway. He rolled back a sleeve to check his watch. Kumi must’ve decided to make dinner a little earlier. Perhaps she could sense her older brother was starving. How sweet.. Although it was a little strange to think she got off work this early since the poor girl had been on call these past few weeks at the local university hospital. Not to mention the jacket draped over the back of the couch looked awfully similar yet Mashiba would be willing to bet every yen in his wallet that it wasn’t hers. He dropped his dusty duffel bag next to it, staring earnestly. 

A pastel blue and white windbreaker. Fairly new, given that meddlesome piece of plastic connecting the missing price tag to the fabric was still absentmindedly lodged into one of the cuffs. You could probably find it in the average thrift store today but even so, something about it seemed personal. Where had he seen this before? 

After hearing his stomach growl, Mashiba decided that wherever this mysterious jacket came from, it didn’t really matter. Knowing his sister probably just started making dinner, he took a seat on cushion below the windbreaker, eying the newspaper on the coffee table as a worthy distraction. Surprisingly, it was already turned to the sports section, with one of the smaller headlines talking about an all too familiar Itagaki Manabu. Out of all the boxers in the featherweight class, it was refreshing to see him take the spotlight away from mainstays like Makunouchi or Miyata. On the other hand, the guy was earning some notoriety with some incredibly fast paced matches as of late. Mashiba thought the “Time God” nickname used throughout the article was a little too dramatic, but then again, as someone with an official fanclub known as the Hell Society, maybe he’d couldn’t complain too much. 

Heh, ever since Makunouchi dropped that belt, he really is gunning for the title. It’s about damn time, he thought. His stomach rumbled again. God, whatever was in that kitchen smelled heavenly. It made him wonder if Kumi made enough progress for him to taste test anything. Maybe there’s some kind of snack in the fridge that could tide him over. His eyes trailed back to the jacket. Hopefully, that was Kumi cooking in there. Then again, who else would it be?

Mashiba cleared his throat. “Hey... how was work?” he asked, voice still a bit gruff from barking orders at some of the new grunts earlier today. 

“Fine, what about you?~” a voice from the kitchen replied that certainly did not belong to his younger sister. He let the newspaper flutter to the floor and he stood up to look through the kitchen doorway. His surprise vistor’s back was turned but even so, he could recognize that copper hair and melodic tone anywhere. He supposed the same could now be said for this jacket on the couch, suddenly recalling when a certain someone showed it off as a “fashion deal and complete steal” a few weeks back. 

Mashiba entered the kitchen, greetly immediately with a better view of the unfinished curry he smelled moments ago as well as his unexpected vistor’s beaming face. Speak of the devil and yet, what the hell was he doing here?

“How did you get in?” Mashiba asked, leaning against the countertop space despite it being covered in what looked to be some kind of leftover powder that didn’t make it into the pot.  
“Extra key,” Itagaki replied, turning on the sink to rinse a small lotus root and potato. Surely enough, this “extra key” he mentioned sat on the kitchen table adjacent to a grocery store receipt. Itagaki paid the taller man’s bewildered stare no mind as he placed the vegetables on the cutting board and searched in a nearby drawer for a knife. 

“How the hell do you know where that key is?” That question earned Mashiba a laugh that wasn’t exactly innocent.

“Oh I know things Ryo. But nevermind that. You told me once that I could come over whenever I wanted. Was that a lie?” Mashiba hated the fact that he could recall that exact day with startling accuracy. “It wasn’t entirely true but,” he trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence. 

“But?”

“But….I can’t really say it was a lie either.”

“Good,” Itagaki said, perhaps a little too proud of himself for breaking into his partner’s house. “ Try not to complain too much. I’m making you dinner.” From the look of things, Mashiba guessed he really was cooking dinner. He couldn’t quite understand how he made himself at home so quickly. Swiping someone else’s keys, using someone else’s stovetop, not to mention wearing some frilly pink apron that Mashiba knew damn well didn’t belong to this wise guy in the slightest. But maybe he shouldn’t complain too much. Work was a pain in the ass today and at least the kid could make things smell good around here. 

Mashiba crossed his arms, watching Itagaki start up the rice cooker as he hummed one of his many original multitasking tunes the taller man was all too accustomed to hearing. “I don’t know why you’re doing this you know,” he muttered. “It’s not gonna taste like how Kumi makes it.” Mashiba eyed the receipt paper on the table again, wondering how much Itagaki spent on this surprise. The humming turned into soft whistling. 

“That’s okay. She works too hard anyway,” Itagaki replied. “Her brother needs to be the one doing this kind of thing every once in a while. Wouldn’t you agree?” He turned his head to find Mashiba staring at the receipt, clearly ignoring him. He pouted in disgust. 

“Why are you so rude to me Ryo?” Itagaki asked, angling the knife to make sure he missed his fingertips as he held the lotus root in place. “Because you’re annoying,” Mashiba said, peeved at the idea of Itagaki likely using his recent prize money for something so unnecessary. “Oh please, says the man that hasn’t kicked me out of his apartment just yet.” Said man crumbled the receipt and tossed it into a nearby waste bin. 

“There must be something about me you like.”

Mashiba stood there in quiet contemplation. 

“...You’re not wrong..” He could’ve swore he caught a glimpse of a smirk forming at the corners of the younger man’s lips. 

Of course, walking through the front door to find his, dare he embarrassingly call significant other was wholly unexpected and Mashiba never liked things he couldn’t anticipate. It’s the same reason why he’s never been fond of sudden invitations, unforeseen changes in plans, surprise parties, and worst of all: spontaneous personalities. Manabu is a frequent contributor to all of these displeasures and yet for some odd reason, Mashiba felt that wasn’t a bad thing. That being said, today’s visit didn’t have to be wholly irritating. This could be interesting. Maybe even for a short time, they could have a nice time. Enjoy each other’s company. 

In particular, he could have fun with this. 

But at the same time, he needed to take care of something that was bothering him, more so than Itagaki blowing through savings for his sake. Something that involved borrowing shit without asking. But it had nothing to do with the key. 

It was that damn apron. The damn champagne pink apron that was worn countless times by someone else. The ribbons were taut against his frame and it was certainly a tad bit too small for him and yet, Mashiba had to admit he looked good in it. Manabu had this unfair ability to look irritatingly good in several outfits it seemed but this time Mashiba refused to let himself be distracted by that charm. Not without dealing with the issue first. 

And definitely not without messing with him in the process.

He’d never say this but Mashiba liked the fact that unlike interactions with most people, he could approach Itagaki without the guy backing away from him. Chalk it up to being a relatively fearless boxer or just plain crazy, the young man had guts. Composure. It’s an attractive quality about him. But, just like interactions with most people, if you knew what buttons to press, that façade would give way. 

That being said, when Mashiba stopped directly behind him, he remained unfazed, moving the sliced lotus root aside to cut the potato. It wasn’t until Itagaki could sense wandering hands hovering near his waist that he flinched. 

“H-hey Ryo,” he spoke up in an attempt to hide his surprise and continue chopping away, but the not so subtle grasping at his hips made focusing difficult which did make sense. He was a very tactile person but he didn’t know Mashiba to be the same way. At least, not before. 

“What’s up?” Itagaki asked, scooping the diced vegetables to add to the pot. He picked up the wooden spoon off the countertop to give everything an ample stir. 

“Nothing but… you seem nervous,” Mashiba replied, close enough for the copper haired man to feel him breathing down his neck. Itagaki shuddered, naturally stirring his curry at a slower rate.

“Not really, just, what are you doing?” he asked. A finger boldly traced a line towards the small of his back, intersecting with a messy, haphazardly tied bow. Mashiba pressed on it lightly with his thumb before slowly pulling at the knot. The stirring ceased.

“I thought you wanted attention,” Mashiba spoke in a gravelly tone. He had half a mind to add you always do on the end of that but Itagaki’s face was already flush scarlet. 

“Yeah and I’m flattered but..I’m kind of in the middle of something?” He motioned towards the pot on the stove that Mashiba was apparently less interested in, confused as to how his partner could be so stoic as he toyed with the ribbon at his back. It didn’t take much for the knot to be untied and soon enough he could feel the man’s fingertips pulling at his collar in search of the top strap. Itagaki’s breathing hitched. 

“Ryo, what are you-”

“Don’t use Kumi’s,” he murmured into his ear. “I’ll buy you one.” Itagaki’s eyes widened, realizing what was going on and laughed nervously, unable to hide his own embarrassment. 

“Oh! Right, I’m sorry!” When he reached behind his back for the top strap and felt Mashiba’s calloused fingers brush against his own, his heart rate sped up. 

“I appreciate the help here but uh..let me do that okay?” Itagaki insisted, pulling the apron overhead and handing it over to Mashiba in a playful huff. Mashiba wordlessly returned it to its rightful hook near the pantry and picked up the extra pair of keys off the table as he left the room. He rifled through his duffel bag on the couch for his wallet and determined that the few stray bills he found ought to be enough. The sound of steady footsteps made him pause at the front door. 

“Keep watching your pot. You’ll burn it.” Mashiba slipped on his shoes. He frowned upon noticing the soles falling apart and considered buying a new pair while he was out. Maybe he’d do that next paycheck but not now. 

“Where are you going?” Itagaki asked, wooden spoon in hand. He stood near the kitchen door frame, eyes watching inquisitively. 

“To get an apron. Be back before dinner.” 

“Oh…I’ll miss you!”

“Yeah yeah…”

\----

As Mashiba started his car, he decided that coming home to dinner, clearly made with love and inarguably quality ingredients was nice. However, his devilish side found the rare sight of a rather flustered Manabu to be perhaps even better. Indeed, with all the confusion the man constantly put his mind through as well as his heart, he could call today’s act of reprisal a victory. Or so he thought. 

The store was sure to have plenty of options and he forgot to ask the brat what color he would’ve liked.


	2. Of Bargains and Dirty Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longer chapter update here since I have too much fun drafting banter for these two ;^) may or may not have created a minor character or two for the sake of the theme in this one. Will they return? Press X to doubt but anything's possible right?

“You lied to me.” 

Those are bold words to say to any person in broad daylight, amidst an array of passersby who could easily interpret the phrase as the beginning of a verbal assault. It’s an especially daring thing to say in the middle of a bustling department store, at a time that should’ve been reserved for an uneventful afternoon off work. Regardless, Mashiba did not stutter. 

“No, I did not!” Neither did Itagaki apparently, tone steady and confident. 

This isn’t how his Saturday is supposed to be. 

He imagined the day would start with a single errand and then he could just stay home. Maybe lounge around and not exactly meditate but take a moment to think. Chill out while watering the newly added weeping fig tree and pruning some of the leaves. Kumi bought the houseplant at a local farmer’s market about a month ago since having a dog was a solid no and fish were considered to be too high maintenance yet she seems to want something in the apartment to take care of that isn’t just the two of them. Despite the vocal interest, she often abandons the poor thing in the morning, an absentminded mistake since hospital affairs naturally take priority. Even so, someone has to take care of the damn thing but it wasn’t going to be Mashiba. At least not now anyway given today’s slight detour. 

“You said we were going shoe shopping,” Mashiba muttered, somewhat perturbed by the commotion arising from limited time sale season in the mall. His partner in crime remained unbothered but oh, what he wouldn’t give to hang out with that silent ficus Kumi fawned over as if it were a small, hapless child. 

“And?” Itagaki whistled along with the annoying store jingle that conveniently gave information on coupon benefits for membership card holders in between barely audible J-POP hits. How Itagaki could tolerate, let alone entertain any of those things is a mystery. Mashiba crossed his arms rather impatiently. 

“I thought we were going to get new boxing shoes and then get outta here.”

“I never said we were going for _boxing_ shoes!”

“Well, these aren’t even shoes!” he argued, vaguely gesturing to various racks of clothing items with price markdowns ticketed in yellow and red tags. Faint laughter from the copper haired man in front of him implied something about this was funny but Mashiba must not have heard the joke. 

“Well, I also didn’t say we were _only_ going shopping for shoes.” Itagaki pulled a varsity jacket off a nearby rack to give the sleeves a quick once over before hanging it back alongside its other embroidered outerwear relatives. It was certainly his style but probably too expensive even with the discount Mashiba assumed. 

“So this is what you do with your prize money when you’re not making me dinner?” Itagaki nodded.

“When I’m not making _us_ dinner and yes. You see though, we have to begin an outfit from top-” he started, leaning on the tips of his toes to lightly tap the brim of Mashiba’s baseball cap with a finger. “...to bottom,” he finished, pointing at dilapidated sneakers. “And trust me, we’ll get to the bottom of whatever those are,” he said a bit too coyly. Rubbing salt in the wound that was Mashiba’s sad excuse for gym shoes was certainly unnecessary but witnessing his keen perception is always oddly refreshing. In fact, he’d be willing to bet the wise guy probably noticed the worn soles well before he did himself. 

“Your hat is fine so I guess we’ll start from the middle. Have you seen anything you like so far?” Perhaps if Mashiba knew the true plan ahead of time he would’ve dedicated some modicum of focus to each aisle they strolled through to answer that question. 

“Hell if I know. Didn’t realize this is what we were doing today.” Itagaki pouted.

“Well now you know so come on! I’m trying to see what goes with your style but you have to help me!” he exclaimed, tugging his arm to drag the two of them down another row of outerwear. Truth be told, it had been awhile since he shopped for clothes for himself. Browsing through items for his sister or Manabu occurs regularly enough to know what pleases either of them but he’d be hard pressed to agree to having a style of his own so to speak. Most of the items in his wardrobe are admittedly gifts, with the others consisting of second-hand store picks Mashiba chose because it was comfortable or happened to be the first items he touched. 

Coordination is generally the last thing on his mind… or so he thought until he vetoed a collared shirt Itagaki held up to his chest. The material felt nice but the gingham pattern was too off putting. The same sentiment applied to the tri-colored anorak sweater that Itagaki pointed at but Mashiba immediately dismissed. He had no doubts about it being a solid waterproof option not to mention crossing off Manabu’s two beat checklist of trendy and affordable, but the neon is way too conspicuous. After all, his closet mainly houses more neutral hues and earth tones. Like those cream colored turtlenecks on display that caught his eye. He picked one up and scanned around for a mirror. 

_Heh. Maybe he did have a style._

“Hey Gaki,” he called out, voice gruff as usual. Itagaki peaked his head from behind a mannequin and waved, an amusing action worthy of an eye roll. “That jacket you had earlier. The dark brown one. Bring it here.” With that request, he gave a small nod and salute and disappeared into a group of patrons before returning with the corduroy jacket in question. Mashiba held the turtleneck next to it like a paint swatch sample to a wall.

 _Yes, this could work. Potentially._

“You see these slacks they have on this shelf here? If I put it with those, what do you think?” Itagaki glanced at the clothes and back at Mashiba, raising a finger to his chin in thought. 

“Hmmm. I think…. I think you should try it all on!”

“I know my size. Everything fits.” 

“Sure it does. But we won’t know what it looks like until you try it right?” That was a good point. Definitely hard to argue with, especially since the fitting room was mere steps away. 

“Fine. Don’t expect a fashion show when I come out of here though.” Itagaki smirked. 

“Of course not. We’re in public! The real show is at home right?” 

Several words went through Mashiba’s head, some harsher and less appropriate than others but he bit his tongue, a skill Itagaki either didn’t have or knew how to do and just constantly chose to ignore. 

“Sometimes I don’t think you understand what you’re saying.”

“And sometimes I think you underestimate me.”

Looks like it’s the latter and not the former. _Figures._

“Um, is there something I help you with today sir?” 

Mashiba turned his head to see the source of the shy voice behind him only to realize a store clerk was addressing Itagaki. She looked young, with rosy cheeks and wavy dark brown hair covered by a knit beret. Her smile was akin to the poster girl of that magazine Kumi often reads while he rewinds boxing tapes for research. Even the perfume she wore was faintly reminiscent of the samples Kumi asked for as a gift that Mashiba always denied in the event she’d wear it to catch Makunouchi’s attention.

Regardless, what a pretty girl like her was doing in retail, he wasn’t sure. 

“Oh I’m with him,” Itagaki spoke up gesturing to the taller man who was all too eager to change clothes and get the process over with. “I’m your moral support right?” Mashiba scoffed, pushing the stall door open and locking it behind him. As he placed his cap on the hook and pulled his shirt overhead he tried tuning out the music on the intercom and whatever the two outside were talking about but he found himself eavesdropping on their conversation anyway. 

“That was a really nice outfit he had! I can’t help but wonder...Is your friend preparing for a date?” 

_The hell? Like that’s any of her business._

“Oh! Uh, something like that I guess.”

_Why did he answer her?_

“Actually, he’s trying to get the courage to ask her out first so I’m just here to hype him up.” 

_And why did he make that up?_

“Aw that’s very sweet of you!”

“Thanks! I try! I mean, my pal here really could use the encouragement.” 

Mashiba grimaced, deciding it really would be best to pay neither of them any mind. 

“So...are you shopping for potential date outfits too?”

 _They sure don’t make themselves easy to ignore._

“No. I’m well covered but personally speaking, I don’t think I need any new threads to be boyfriend material if you ask me.” 

_Boyfriend material my ass._

Soft laughter and inaudible whispers was irritating enough to push the fitting room door open completely unannounced. He shoved his hands in his pockets, not overly concerned with any comments Itagaki would make about his posture but judging by the expression on the young man’s face, he was too dumbfounded to say anything. The silence made Mashiba wonder if he put something on backwards for a moment. 

“Well, how do I look?”

Surprisingly, the sales associate also had astonishment written on her face but the energy she exuded was different. Mashiba was in the pain business long enough to recognize fear in another human being’s eyes, whether the installation of it was intentional or not. It goes without saying he didn’t mean to frighten her but there was something else in her gaze other than dismay. Admiration is perhaps too strong a word and far too positive but if not that then…. _what?_ When their eyes met, she made a small gasp and stepped back, placing a hand on Itagaki’s shoulder as if to hide behind him. 

“You look….really good.” If that simple touch from a stranger was all Itagaki needed to reset the language module of his brain, then Mashiba could be grateful. 

“Heh. Really?” 

_He doesn’t sound so sure and the chick cowering next to him doesn’t seem to agree._

“Yes, I’m not joking. I think this outfit really-”

“He’s right!” the girl piped up, hand still planted firmly on Itagaki’s shoulder as she tapped her glittery red nails against his collarbone, assumedly out of nervous habit. “You look very handsome! Um, you saw yourself in the mirror right?”

 _Oh._ He was so preoccupied with whatever those two were up to that he didn’t even think to check. A single glance at his reflection behind him warranted a slight chuckle. 

“Hm. Not bad.” 

“Not bad? Nobody told me I’m hanging out with a guy who’s drop dead gorgeous am I right?” Itagaki said, playfully poking the girl in her side with his elbow, a movement done in jest that appeared to startle her even more. Realizing how close they were, she stepped away, turling a curl of hair between small fingers. 

“Y-yeah, you’re just like...the next model for Boxing Fan Monthly!”

Suddenly, it was Mashiba’s turn to be stunned. Itagaki followed suit.

“Huh?” Her comment was so oddly specific Mashiba questioned himself on whether or not he heard her correctly. Clearly embarrassed, the girl bowed a few times, hiding the pink tint on her cheeks that arose separately from her dewy makeup. 

“I’m-I’m sorry!! I realize I’ve been taking up your time!!” she exclaimed, speech getting faster between each breath. “I’ll leave you two! If you need anything please-” she paused to press her hands together in a loud clapping motion. “Please don’t hesitate to call me over!”

Mashiba nodded and without a word, watched her scamper away to ask another customer if they needed help a few aisles over. _What an eccentric exit._ He glanced at a confused Itagaki for an explanation. 

“What the hell was her deal?”

“Beats me… But I do want to say that this outfit really feels like your style you know?”

 _Right._ He might be terrifying but his reflection was a reminder that if he wanted to, he could dress decently. 

“It does look...kinda nice. And it is on sale so…”

“You’re buying it?!” Itagaki’s eyes lit up with excitement. _How cute._

“It only makes sense,” Mashiba said, taking off the jacket to hand it to his newly appointed fashion consultant. “After all, how else am I gonna look nice on, you know.” Itagaki furrowed his brow. 

“On what?”

“The next date I go on.” He emphasized those words by removing his baseball cap off the fitting room hook and placing it loosely atop his companion’s head. 

“Hey! This doesn’t match anything I’m wearing!” 

“Just hold it. I’ll take it back in a minute.” 

When Mashiba changed back into his clothes, the pair found themselves in a small argument, for better or worse. Itagaki kept insisting since it was his idea to go shopping he should pay for everything which was originally out of the question. He was always like this for reasons Mashiba couldn’t fathom. It was like he had something to prove monetarily in spite of his family’s background which Mashiba thought was asinine for as many times he reminded him that none of that mattered.

But it’s hard to shut down Manabu’s stubbornness sometimes so when he offered to take care of the one outfit they just picked out as a gift, Mashiba caved, assurring this transaction was on the condition that there wouldn’t be anymore “gifts'' coming out of his pocket for awhile. 

While they walked toward the check out section, the two couldn’t help but notice groups of shoppers becoming more prominent. In typical sale season fare, the lines extended longer than Mashiba cared for. 

“Damn.”

“Hey. Patience is a virtue, right?”

_As if the Grim Reaper holds anything sacred._

“Oh! Um, I can open another register here for you guys!”

With that wavering voice and peach blossom scent, he didn’t have to whip his head around to know it was _her_ again. Relieved from the wait, Itagaki beamed, much to Mashiba’s chagrin. 

“Ah that sounds wonderful actually!!”

“Great but….before I do that um, could I...” she trailed off, biting her lip and stepping forward. Mashiba had half a mind to step between her and Itagaki but decided against the idea.

“Could you what?” he asked sternly.

“Could I...borrow him for a minute?”

“Borrow me?” Itagaki pointed to his own face and then looked at Mashiba for approval. The taller man shrugged. 

“That’s your call not mine.” 

“Sorry! We’re on a bit of a tight schedule so-”

“It’ll only be for a moment!” she interjected. “I’ll have everything finished in minutes I promise!” Before Itagaki could speak, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of a door near the elevators that read “Authorized Personnel Only.” Mashiba sighed. 

_Manabu is a popular guy, isn’t he?_

As popular as he might be, to say Itagaki was surprised to have a random retail worker dragging him near an off limits area of a department store would be an understatement. Especially given the fact that any stranger vying for him was the farthest thought from his mind right now. He had other concerns to be plagued by like Mashiba being genuinely pissed or not about today’s excursion.

He also didn’t know what was worse: the idea that his partner didn’t know how attractive he is or that he could read his infatuation on display clear as day. One is heartbreaking and the other is simply embarrassing since if there’s anything Itagaki loathes, it’s being teased. That’s only second to being interrupted which was more or less what this girl was doing. When they reached the door and she let go, Itagaki rotated his wrist in an effort to feign soreness from her firm but harmless grip. 

“Hey, what’s going on here?" What was he being ‘borrowed’ to do? He’d humor her but not at the expense of any funny business or keeping Ryo longer than need be. 

“We don’t actually need to go in here but...Your...friend,” she started, eyes darting across the way and back, a kind of passionate apprehension peaking through full, sweeping lashes. “He’s kind of a...a celebrity isn’t he?”

“Celebrity?” _That’s a peculiar way to describe him, sure. Unless…?_

“Yeah um...I know I said something weird back there when he was trying things on but,” she took a sharp inhale, leaning in close to speak in a hushed tone. “That’s because he looks a lot like this one lightweight boxer: Mashiba Ryo.” Itagaki’s eyes widened. 

“Mashiba Ryo?” _So THAT’S what this is about?_

“Y-yeah! Maybe I sound crazy but I’m not even asking for me!! It’s for my older sister! Here wait!” she said, frantically pulling out polaroids from a red and white compact wallet. In the first photo stood a young woman who appeared to be about Mashiba’s age, at least in physique since her face remained obstructed by long thick black hair. She wore one of those studded leather jackets with spikes Itagaki wanted to buy for Ryo as a birthday present and posed alongside a ticket booth for Korakuen Hall holding a cardboard sign with the words “The Death God Rises” written in bold red marker.

In a less blurry ringside snapshot, Itagaki could tell that she’s the complete antithesis of her younger sister. After all, the timid girl next to him has a demeanor that radiates fashion forward and pleasantly chic while the woman in the photo was undoubtedly the lovechild of a punk rock frontman and a mortician.

However, that wasn’t to say her style lacked its own charm. From the silver cartilage rod that shot through her ear like an arrow to the gothic chains and padlock pendant dangling from her neck, she exuded a level of confidence easily classified as badass. This notwithstanding an all too familiar headband tied below her bangs.

“See? She’s actually a pretty big fan!” Itagaki smiled. 

“A member of the Hell Society huh?” Hearing her giggle in response to that question was almost as comforting as it was strange. 

“Oh she was a fan long before that group came around! In fact, here’s one we took together at her favorite match.” The photo depicted the two girls side by side, holding a hand painted banner cheering for Ryo’s victory as the older one threw up a devil horns sign with her index and pinky. The backdrop was a rather intense poster for a fight titled “The Execution” in block text. Itagaki vaguely remembered hearing about this one despite it happening a bit before he joined Kamogawa Gym. It was hard to believe Ryo’s hair used to be that short and upon closer inspection….

“That’s Kimura-senpai,” he murmured, realizing it was _that_ bout. The girl craned her head to the side in confusion. 

“Kimura? Oh yea, that’s the guy that lost, isn’t he?”

Damn. _Even when he’s not around, Kimura-senpai can’t seem to catch a break._

“You watch boxing too?” she asked innocently enough. Itagaki looked at her in disbelief before shaking it off, trying not to be offended. She already spotted Ryo and seemed to have no clue as to who one of his fellow gym mates is. Hell, his senpai was even a high ranker for his weight class at the time. What could he say? That he does boxing? Would she even believe it? 

“Y-yeah I watch. Sometimes anyway.” _It’s better to go with that then to expose your own career just to be disappointed._ She seemed to like that answer. 

“I-I do too! Not as much as my sister though because I can’t handle all the violence even though she says that’s the best part!” _That’s understandable but..._

“The best part? Haha, if that’s the case, I’m surprised her favorite match is The Execution and not that one bloodbath they had to stop airing on television.” _You know, the one where those two idiots almost killed each other,_ he thought but refrained from saying. For whatever reason her face fell when he bought the topic up. 

“Oh, you’re talking about his fight with the Dragon of Nagoya right? That’s not a very good memory for either of us.” _For an advocate of fisticuffs, that’s unexpected._

“Big sis couldn’t take all the bloodlust?” She shook her head. 

“No no! She was there and we had premium seating! It’s just that things got so intense for her during the second round that she passed out.” Itagaki froze, almost at a loss for words for the second time today, albeit for a completely different reason. 

“Wait I’m sorry- she what?!”

“She passed out. Well, a better way to describe it is that she fainted and probably would’ve woken up but bumped her head when she fell and blacked out from it. It happened in a matter of seconds and when I checked her condition she was out cold! We had to call an ambulance and everything!! But trust me, Sis has rewatched the tapes plenty of times but just curses herself for not being conscious to see it live.” 

“Is she...okay?” She waved a hand vigorously in dismissal. 

“Yea! Yea! Right as rain! We threw ice water on her like they do in the movies and she perked back up like nothing was wrong! No broken bones, concussions, nothing like that! Just a lot of hype in a short amount of time! And a lot of shame from missing out!”

That’s certainly a relief. _Good that she’s well enough to hopefully not relive that again._

“A-anyway,” the girl spoke softly again. “I have to ask since it’s kinda unbelievable but is it really him?” she asked, pointing in Mashiba’s vicinity. “Mashiba Ryo, in the flesh?!” 

Unsure of how to approach the situation, Itagaki gave her a wry smile.

“If it is, what would you do?” 

“I...I’m a bit afraid to ask him because he seems like he’s on his day off but...could I ask for his autograph? Please?!” she stammered, voice peaking a little too high for Itagaki’s liking. 

“Shhhh.” He placed a finger to his lips. “You have to keep this a secret.” She grinned.

“Of course! It’ll be our secret-ah! I mean,” she paused, taking a deep breath to calm down. “It’ll be our secret.”

“Great, but you’ll have to do me a favor.” 

“What is it? I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Itagaki assessed their surroundings briefly to make sure no one was staring at them before speaking up. “Okay so, we might be in the building for a while, visiting other stores and what not. Let me have your photo from The Execution and I’ll get it signed for you and drop things off before we leave.” The excitement in her dark brown eyes from his proposal was infectious. 

“You will? But how will you convince him though?” 

_How will I convince him? Please._

“Don’t worry! I have my methods.” He emphasized the promise with a wink. 

As they walked back to set up the register and check out, he tried waving at a rather impatient Mashiba who was rubbing his temples, probably from social fatigue. He didn’t wave back of course but gave Itagaki his signature _“hurry this shit up”_ nod which was fine. After all that talk about Ryo and his secret admirers, he wanted to finish things up too for the sake of spending time together. Once she processed his change and printed the receipt, the girl gave the clothes bag a forlorn look before sealing it with a department store sticker. 

“What’s the matter?” She shook her head and snapped out of her gaze.

“Oh sorry! It’s just that, I know my sister will love the favor you’re doing for her but...I can’t help but feel like she’ll be a little upset.” 

_Upset?_

“Why?”

“You know, that I met him instead of her haha! But also...” she started to murmur, looking away distantly as if saddened by something. 

“You said he’s seeing someone right?” she asked quietly. 

Itagaki swallowed hard. “I said that he’s trying to ask someone out but…” No. She’s a stranger. She doesn’t need to know that. _No one needs to know that._

“I see. I mean, she can’t be too mad about it though. At the end of the day, we know he goes through so much in the ring, and...his public image probably takes a strain on his private life so, no matter who he’s with…” She feigned a feeble smile. 

“No matter who he’s with, we just want him to be happy. So I hope, whoever he’s trying to ask out will make him happy.”

Itagaki’s face burned hot and he wanted nothing more than to take the bag and leave but that wouldn’t be completely in good faith. He gestured over to Mashiba who he knew had been watching the two for quite some time. 

“It’s… funny you say that because that guy over there is…”

Is what? His confidant? His favorite person? Someone he cares about more than can be conveyed with a simple explanation?

“He’s my best friend. So just like you said, I hope so too. I really do.” 

As the day came to a close, Mashiba let the car engine run while Itagaki fumbled with putting all their shopping bags in the trunk. Making sure everything fit, he shut it firmly and walked over to the passenger side, tapping the glass so his partner would roll down the window. 

“All good?” 

“Yup.”

“Finally,” Mashiba groaned, pressing a button on his keys to unlock the door. “But you know, I was starting to think that one store clerk really liked you.” 

“She didn’t even recognize me at all!” Itagaki huffed, crossing his arms. 

“Oh shut up. You have plenty of fans. Now get in the car.” 

Following orders, he pulled the handle and sat down, clicking his seatbelt into place and making sure not to slam the door despite the oncoming gust of wind from other vehicles leaving the underground parking complex. 

“You can just drop me off at the station, it’s easier.”

“No. Why would I do that when I can drive you home?’

_True. He wasn’t really sure why he said that._

“Okay.”

“God, I swear you’re ridiculous sometimes Manabu.” 

Maybe so. But now, he just wanted to take a nap. To be more specific, he wanted to spend the night at Mashiba’s apartment but knew he couldn’t ask since Kumi lived there and the whole thing would be awkward, especially since he was pretty sure she didn’t know about him. _Not like that anyway._

He watched the scenery go by in the window through half lidded eyes, and tried to close them but couldn’t. Normally, the thrash metal playing through the speakers didn’t bother him but something about the sound made his mind go back to the woman in the photograph Mashiba signed. In an alternate world, what if she was the one working at that mall instead of her younger sister and the two of them met? Would the day have turned out differently?

No. He can’t think that way.

_Ryo’s not like that. Not when he already has someone._

But if he wanted to be with someone more like himself, with more things in common to make it all less difficult then…? The thought was too much. No. _This is all so stupid._ If he told Ryo what he was thinking, he’d say it was stupid. He knows this. But the thought was making him sick. 

The _music_ was making him sick. 

“Can I…. turn down the radio? Just a bit?” Mashiba glanced at him out of his periphery and put on his turn signal. 

“Do what you want.”

Itagaki reached for the knob, hesitating slightly before Mashiba turned it down for him. 

“This okay?” He could barely hear a thing. 

“You didn’t have to turn it off you know.”

“I know, but it looked like it was driving you nuts.” 

_He wasn’t wrong._

“Manabu,” he said in a low tone, the kind that would scare most people if they didn’t know that it was Mashiba’s attempt at sounding sincere. “Are you alright?”

Itagaki nodded, trying to cover up any sense of unease. He pulled at the elastic of his headband anxiously.

“Yeah I’m good! Just a little restless but you know me!” He wondered if Ryo bought the act. 

“Sure.” _Probably not but they could always talk later._

“Looking at the fuel gauge, I’m gonna have to stop for gas. We might be a little longer because of that but why don’t you try to relax until we get to your place?”

“Alrighty!”

He wasn’t entirely sure if he could relax but he was glad his mind stopped running through one hypothetical after another. He drummed his fingers along the car windowsill while Mashiba surveyed the road, muttering something about the ills of rush hour traffic. 

“Plenty of fans huh?” Itagaki repeated out loud. 

“Ryo?”

“Yeah?” He had to focus hard to hold in his laughter. 

“How would you like to be my official fanclub president?”

“I should’ve left you at the station when I had the chance.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's only fair for Mashiba to be a part of the Itagaki fan club in some way. Pretty sure he gained automatic membership ever since they went canonically shopping together that one time in Chapter 562.


End file.
